


tell me your sexy demon lore

by heeryor_lunboks



Category: Critical Role (Web Series) RPF
Genre: M/M, Sexual Roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-02
Updated: 2019-04-02
Packaged: 2020-01-01 06:30:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18330509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heeryor_lunboks/pseuds/heeryor_lunboks
Summary: Sexy demon possession roleplay in a Best Western is never going to be dignified, but hey, they’re actors, and dignity is always, always overrated.





	tell me your sexy demon lore

**Author's Note:**

> Ah um. For [this prompt](https://criticalkink.dreamwidth.org/3385.html?thread=1003321#cmt1003321) at the kink meme.

“Hey, Matt, all of us are grabbing dinner in like, an hour. Is that okay?”

There’s silence when Liam knocks at Matt and Marisha’s room. Maybe he’s napping. Maybe Liam could also be napping. It’s the last day of the con, and they’re all a little punchy. 

“Come in, please.”

Liam raises his eyebrows and opens the door, ducking into the room. Okay.

Matt is sitting in one of the terrible hotel chairs like it’s an evil anime supervillain chair, his legs crossed. He’s even backlit from the window, like he might have spent some time thinking about the lighting set-up.

“I don’t think Matt is available right now.” 

It’s a little ridiculous. 

For a second, Matt’s mouth twitches, like he might break into a sheepish grin, and it’s the most fucking endearing thing. Liam bites back a delighted laugh.

It’s ridiculous, but Liam’s stomach flips, because oh. Oh hey, it’s that thing they talked about. And yeah, sexy demon possession role play in a Best Western is never going to be dignified, but they’re actors, and dignity is always, always overrated. 

Liam reaches for the doorknob behind his back, but Matt’s voice calls across the room, deeper and throatier than his usual tone.

“I wouldn’t, if I were you. Are you going to leave him to get help?” Matt indicates his own body with a casual sweep of his hand. “Really, who knows what I could do in that time. Best stay here to make sure nothing happens.” 

Matt leans his chin on his hand, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth, shades of Avantica, of the Briarwoods, of every villain that made Liam want to bare his throat to danger. And the understanding is clear: that whatever this thing is, it has Matt’s body hostage. 

It sweeps Matt’s hand down, gesturing for Liam to kneel. Liam slowly gets to his knees, holding his gaze. He jerks his chin up at Matt, daring him.

Matt smiles, a slow, dangerous thing, and gestures for Liam to come closer. Liam awkwardly shuffles forward on his knees. The carpet of con hotels are uniformly terrible, and this one is no different, a mutant cross-breed of bowling hall carpets and IKEA. 

But he definitely isn’t thinking about the carpet now, because Matt is close enough to rest a hand against his throat, his thumb a light, implacable pressure against his trachea. Liam shudders and tries not to press into his touch.

It still surprises him, sometimes, the way that a sweetheart like Matt can come up with shit like this. It’s something they have in common, maybe. Having a space to let the sharp-toothed, clawed parts of their imaginations roam freely feels good, the same way that the inevitability of tragedy feels good, in the same way that pressing on a bruise feels good. For all that they joke about loving that sad, dark shit, it says something to them. 

“Oh, you’re a sweet one, aren’t you?” Matt’s lips part, looking assessing, dangerous. 

Liam swallows against Matt’s fingers. “Not really. I’m told that I’m pretty cheeky sometimes.”

“Hmm. I don’t know about that. This one certainly seems to think so,” the demon gestures at Matt’s chest. “It’s painfully obvious, you know. The way he calls you pretty. Is it that you make your characters to tempt him, or that he can’t help but imagine that they have the same appeal as you?” 

Liam shudders. It aches sweetly to hear that laid out so bare. Not Gilmore calling Vax pretty, or a reference to Caleb’s features, but something else. It should be weird, this acknowledgement of this running thing that just—keeps happening in their collaborative storytelling, even before they knew it was a thing. That Liam might have wanted to be appealing to Matt. That Matt looked at Liam’s characters and thought that they should be pretty, spoke it into existence in their shared space.

“Is that what demons do for kicks? Watch a bunch of nerdy voice actors livestream and analyse their character interactions for secret desires?” It’s easy enough to act cheeky, to put a shake in his voice, as if he were desperately trying to control the situation, stall for as long as possible, frantic butterflies in his gut.

A quirk of Matt’s lips. Liam isn’t sure if it’s Matt, or the demon. “It’s as good a past-time as any.” His fingers drop to Liam’s chest, flicking open the buttons of his henley. “I would be a little less flippant, if I were you.”

“Yeah? Why’s that?” Liam shrugs. “You haven’t done much so far. I’ve had wilder nights out with Tal. Heck, I’ve had wilder nights at home watching Travis and Laura play video games.”

“Oh, yes. I’m sure you’re up for all sorts of exciting things.” 

It pats Liam’s cheek, then puts a hand to Matt’s bared throat, fingers pressing in and turning the skin white. 

“But this one—you wouldn’t allow any harm to come to him, would you?” 

Liam stills. “Don’t.”

It laughs. “I could take this body, walk it into the road, throw it off a balcony. It would be so, so easy. These bodies are so fragile.”

And—and just the thought of that, the thought of Matt just disappearing like that, slipping from Liam’s hands, is enough to freeze his guts into a solid lump. 

“Let him go.” His voice cracks around the words. It’s not entirely intentional.

It laughs, throaty and amused. It lifts his hand to it brush against Liam’s cheek. His hand is still warm from the heat of Matt’s throat. “I don’t know. I like this one. Perhaps I would make it slow.”

And—there’s a gasp, a flicker of Matt, his eyes wide and panicked, as if breaking through the control, and christ, Liam’s heart jumps. 

“Liam—Liam, please—” 

It’s gone in a second, Matt’s expression gone sleek and amused again. 

“Oh, he’s struggling so hard, you know. Do you know that he doesn’t want you to be harmed, not for his sake? It’s desperately sweet.” 

“What do you want.” Liam lets his voice drop all affect. 

“Oh, no jokes now?” 

“I’ve got a pretty terrible dad joke repertoire that I can draw on, if that’s what you want. The dubious benefits of being best friends with Sam Riegel.” 

Matt’s hand cups his jaw, tilting it back and forth. “Hm. Tempting, but I think not. Strip, please.”

Liam mechanically shucks his shirt, pulling it over his head and tossing it to the side. 

“So obedient now. That’s sweet. Is it that you won’t even risk the possibility of hurting him?” 

“Yeah.” Liam straightens, then bows his head. No jokes, no filters, just his shaking, ragged voice. “Please. Fuck, I’ll, I’ll do anything. Do whatever you want to me. I just want him whole and unharmed and okay.”

He hears a sharp intake of breath, and when he looks up, Matt’s eyes are wide.

Matt opens his mouth, closes it, and ducks his head, his mouth tight—not the deliberate glimpse from before, but Matt genuinely shaken. Liam can see him gathering himself, putting the character back on, but it doesn’t quite happen, his expression too open and too soft.

“Aw, Matt—” Liam stands up and clambers into Matt’s lap, cupping Matt’s face and kissing his forehead. “You okay? All good?”

Matt sweeps at his eyes with the heel of his hand. “Yeah. Geez. Sorry, just took me off-guard.” He laughs shakily. “Didn’t know I would react so strongly to that.”

Liam gathers him closer, cupping his hands over the back of his neck, the skin hot and damp, and lets him take a few deep breaths.

Matt takes a shuddering breath, then looks up at him. “Fuck, Liam, I—I don’t even know what to say to that.” His voice is steady, but his eyes are damp. “Please don’t ever do something like this for my sake, okay?”

“No promises if there’s ever a demon invasion.” His own voice sounds thick, a lump of emotion of his chest. “Aw, Matt, if you cry, I’m going to cry, too. And we’ll be two emotional middle-aged dudes crying about how much we love each other after sexy roleplay, and no one needs to see that. Except on our talk show about our D&D show.”

Matt lets go of a damp laugh, wiping his eyes with the heel of his hand. “Everything is content?” 

Liam laughs, the knot in his chest slowly untwisting. “Everything is content.”

“Marisha is going to laugh so hard when she hears that we got each other too emotional over sexy demon possession roleplay to actually make it happen. God, we’re terrible at this.”

Liam waggles his eyebrows at Matt. “Or we’re really, really good at this. Knowing you, you had like, five single-spaced pages of backstory ready for this demon.”

Matt ducks his head, throwing up his hands with a damp laugh. “Maybe! But you just threw that all out of the window because you had to be all sincere and sweet, so now you’ll never know, will you?”

“Whoops,” Liam says, not in the least abashed. “Okay, so plan B: I give you a super sexy overly-emotional blowjob, and I jerk off while you tell me the rest of your elaborate worldbuilding about demon social structures, and we’ll call it good and grab dinner?”

Matt laughs. “Sounds like a plan.” 

Liam takes Matt’s hands, lifts the palms to his mouth to kiss and places them on his neck. Matt’s eyes go dark, his breath short. “And we can try that again later.”


End file.
